​My Margherita Pizza Project just has two or three stops left.  Thankfully.  The margheritas I’ve had recently haven’t been that great on average.  That includes some I had during a two week sojourn in Italy.
 
Cane Rosso (Montrose) – Satisfactory
Dolcevita (Parma) – Good
La Fresca (Heights) – Satisfactory
Mia Bella (Greenway Plaza) – Fair
Osteria Giuseppe Verdi (Parma) – Poor
Rocco’s – Poor
Roma’s Pizza – Poor


At Dolcevita near the Piazza Garibaldi in Parma, Italy

​Pizza is from Italy, but pizza is Neapolitan in origin.  It came from Naples, specifically, and actually spread more quickly throughout the U.S. than it did in Italy from its birthplace in Naples, as odd as that may seem.  Pizza initially traveled with the immigrants from Naples and its environs, of whom there were many in this country.
 
One of the most important events in the gustatory history of the country – and an immeasurable future boon to children, college students and the makers of heartburn remedies – seems to have begun officially in 1905 when Gennaro Lombardi, a native of Naples, opened the first licensed pizzeria in America in Manhattan’s Little Italy, Lombardi’s.  He had been making versions of this strictly Neapolitan fast food at the bakery in which he worked, which was also being done elsewhere, at least in his neighborhood.  The New York Tribune noted a couple of years earlier in 1903 in Little Italy that “apparently the Italian has invented a kind of pie. The ‘pomidore pizza,’ or tomato pie.”   These pizza pies were just the province of these Neapolitans; in Italy at the time, it was not found outside of the vicinity of Naples.   “There are only two places in New York where you can get real, genuine Neapolitan pizze. One is on Spring Street and one on Grand. The rest are Americanized substitutes,” reported an informed source, “the Dago,” in a Sun piece in the summer of 1905.   With that first pizzeria at 52 Spring Street, Lombardi used a coal-fired oven, a typical commercial oven at the time.  Though wood was used in the pizzerias in Naples, coal was readily available in New York and burned more efficiently than wood.   The coal-fired ovens would help give New York pies a distinctive crust and a little different taste than their progenitors on the Bay of Naples. It was often charred, crisp yet pliable, though not soggy, as the centers of the pizzas in Naples are. 
 
These pizzas first found an audience with those recently arrived Neapolitans and quickly spread to all the Italians living in the neighborhood.  Pizza has proven to be a very easy sell over the years.  In the 1920s and 1930s Lombardi’s former employees, all Neapolitans, opened pizzerias in Brooklyn, East Harlem and uptown Manhattan that would be destined to become icons in their own right.  But, pizzas were really an ethnic, mostly Italian, specialty until after the Second World War, even in New York City.   Also in the 1920s, pizzerias were opened by Neapolitan immigrants in the Italian neighborhoods of New Haven, Connecticut, Trenton, and Boston.  Philadelphia and Chicago were two of the few other cities with Neapolitan pizzaioli and pizza before the Depression.   Pizzerias were then still run solely by these Neapolitans and their offspring.  Pizzas began its worldwide conquest from Naples and being strictly Neapolitan to being Neapolitan-American then Italian-American and then becoming Italian.  Pizza was very difficult to find north of Naples before 1960 the early 1960s, in fact.
 
Another trademark American quality, in addition to convenience and efficiency, is size.  The size of pizzas grew in diameter from its original ten inches or so, eventually settling at between 12 and 14 inches.  Instead of just one, these now fed two to four people, perfectly suited for families and groups of friends.  This was the result of the ingredients available to those immigrants working in New York. The 00 flour Neapolitan pizzaiolos used was not available, so unbleached flours of high protein took the place of the softer flour. This enabled the pizza-makers to make bigger, but slightly thinner pizzas that dwarfed their progenitors.  The ones made here were all fairly similar, still thin-crust with a minimal number of toppings, if more and different than those in Naples and the earliest pizzerias here.  Cheese, mushrooms, anchovies, ground beef, onions, and that Italian-American creation, pepperoni, were common, and often used in combinations. 
 
The easier-to-manage gas ovens eventually took over from coal in nearly all pizzerias in New York, making for a slightly different crust including a lack of sootiness.  The newer pizzamakers tended to adhere to the American maxim of more is better and put much more cheese on the pizzas than the original Neapolitan-American places, who remained true to their early minimalist ethos.  The margherita morphed into the cheese pizza, more cheese and with dried oregano replacing the fresh basil, which was more difficult to have on hand year-round in New York than in Naples.  The cheese that became popular with the eventually ubiquitous restaurants was use of low-moisture mozzarella over fresh mozzarella, which is not well suited to the lower temperature and longer cooking times of the gas ovens. An even more noticeable change was that pizza in New York eventually became to be served by the slice in addition to the whole pie.  This seemingly very simple thing allowed for smaller establishments  ̶  as a slice is essentially take-away or quick-eating fare  ̶  that are cheaper to start and run allowing for many more pizza shops, further expanding the reach of the pizza.
 
A New Haven pizzeria founded by a Neapolitan immigrant, Pepe's Pizzeria Napoletana, eventually introduced a version topped with clams (in the 1960s), but there still were not many regional differences.   Pizzas were simple, satisfying, affordable, and easy-to-like.  One variation to the standard pie, found in St. Louis to Chicago and east to West Virginia often in taverns, was cut the thin circular pizzas into squares that were easy to eat with one hand, beer in the other.  Pizzerias in St. Louis also began putting Provel cheese on their pies, a bland processed cheese that melts well, an Italian-American Velveeta, and another step toward industrial Americanization.
 
Somewhere along the line, the Sicilian pizza also joined the mix, likely the result of a pizzeria worker or owner from Palermo.  It was derived from the sfincione from Palermo, a type of spongy focaccia usually topped there with vegetables or tomato sauce and cheese or sardines or anchovies. So, customers at some pizzerias began to have two options dished with the same sauce and toppings: the original circular thin-crust, and a rectangular construction, the Sicilian, with a thick, softer crust. 
 
Pizza spread throughout the country after the Second World War, becoming far more common a sight than in Italy where it was still mostly confined to Naples and its environs.  In fact, it was difficult to find pizza north of Naples through the 1960s.   Here, it began to be served well beyond the Italian neighborhoods.  Starting and growing in areas with virtually no competition from pizzerias with Italian antecedents, several regional, national and international pizza companies got their start in the mid-1950s to 1960: Shakey’s in Sacramento (humorously, I guess, named after one of the malaria-damaged owners) in 1954, Pizza Hut in Wichita and Pizza Inn in Dallas in 1958, Little Caesar’s in suburban Detroit in 1959, and Domino’s in Ypsilanti, Michigan in 1960.   The commercially made gas then electric pizza ovens, along with large mixers for the dough introduced in the mid-1950s, helped make the creation of the pizzas easier, far less dependent on a seasoned pizza-maker.  American business know-how helped even more.  The franchise system increased the number of branches and market presence quickly.  Even if far from the best pizzas around – the pies usually featured doughier and blander crusts and lower-quality toppings – these pizza chains have been greatly enjoyed by millions over the years.  Not incidentally, with tremendous insight, or luck, both Pizza Hut and Pizza Inn first opened right near college campuses.  
 
Pizza has helped others gained their slice of the American dream, too.  Greek-owned places created many oregano-heavy pizzas in the New York area, in New England where they developed a distinctive style, and elsewhere.  Beginning in the 1990s, Albanian immigrants have owned and operated many pizzerias in the northeast.   These groups have also helped reinforce the truly American styles of pizzas, all of which have their roots in New York.
 
Chicago began to go a different route starting in 1943 with the first deep-dish pizza, to the everlasting disdain of New Yorkers.  Created at Pizzeria Uno by non-Italians, this hefty dish was really more of a casserole than a pizza (but still a pie), in line with the city’s big-food traditions.   It was baked at lower temperatures for around forty-five minutes or so, far longer than the thin-crust versions, but contained the usual pizza ingredients and flavors and grew to become the fiercely loved, dominant style in and around the Windy City.  Chicago-style has come to mean deep-dish.
 
Another type of pizza was added by a non-Italian, the designer pizza, or the California pizza, introduced in the early 1980s by Wolfgang Puck at his Spago restaurant in Los Angeles.   This helped expand the range of toppings thought possible.  Goat cheese, salmon, chicken, shrimp and even caviar were all successfully found atop Spago’s finely crafted pies.  Its success created a designer pizza craze in Los Angeles in the mid-1980s.  And, though Alice Water’s Chez Panisse might have been the first to do so a few years earlier and inspired Puck, Spago’s example was the one that really popularized the idea that pizza could be served at serious restaurants.  In the past half-dozen years or so, pizzas, and their simpler, easier-to-make cousin, the flatbread, have become a popular starter at many at fine dining or ambitious restaurant across the country.  There are great margins in these.
 
The most significant and interesting development the couple of decades is the emergence of the truly Neapolitan pizza.  There is even a certification body, Verace Pizza Napoletana Association (VPN) that looks at the use of the oven, wood-fired, of course, and the use of Neapolitan ingredients like the soft 00 flour, San Marzano tomatoes from near Naples, and buffalo milk mozzarella, usually along with previous enrolment in one of their classes.  La Pizza Fresca was one of the very first in New York and the country in the mid-1990s.  Others acclaimed ones opening since then include Ribalta, Naples 45, Keste, Motorino and Don Antonio by Starita, a top pizzeria in Naples.  There Una Pizza Napoletana opened in New York in 2004 then relocated to San Francisco that helped to raise the form to great renown here, and stridency.
 
Pizza, more than ever, and in many more forms than ever, is an integral and ubiquitous presence in Americans eating habits.  I've come to know that even more with my ongoing Margherita Pizza Project.  It’s the third popular food in America according to a recent survey.  An example of how ingrained pizza has become in American culture is a vignette related by the former head of the Italian trade mission in New York.  Soon after arriving in the late 1990s he was asked in earnest by an American friend, “Gioacchino, how does one say ‘pizza’ in Italian?”


A margherita pizza, or is it a cheese pizza, at Mascalzone.

I had to track down Lorenzo Ruggeri after he finished helping lead a tasting of wines from northern Italy the other day.  He had just mentioned at the end of the session that the Italian publication hosting the event, Gambero Rosso, was announcing its picks for the best Italian restaurants in Houston later that day.  I had to leave soon and really wanted to know.  Gambero Rosso is mostly known for their thick annual Italian wine guide, but it also has guides for restaurants and now one for Italian food products.
 
I was very curious to learn what it had acclaimed in the city, assuming it would reward authenticity and adherence to native Italian products and flavors.  I make it point to pester foreign transplants and visitors for feedback about local restaurants serving their home cuisine, often finding it useful feedback. Thankfully, I was able to quickly find Ruggeri and inquire about the local winners. 
 
He was quickly forthcoming with the yet-unveiled winners. Amalfi won the top spot for fine dining, Sud Italia for traditional cuisine, Rosso Cane for pizza, and Poscol for the cantina.  I complimented him on the choices of Amalfi and Sud Italia. These are led by two of the top handful of Italian chefs in the state – Giancarlo Ferrarra at Amalfi and Maurizio Ferrarese at Sud Italia – though I was surprised about Cane Rosso.  I haven’t been impressed in several visits, finding the various Neapolitan-styled pizzas much more attractive than flavorful.  He said that it was tough to find good pizza, which I heartily if unfortunately agreed.  My view of the local pizza scene has diminished with the ongoing research for my Margherita Pizza Project.  And, Cane Rosso only got one of three pizza slices versus two of the other things (forks, bottles and no telling) for the other restaurants.  The fourth of the winners, Poscol, does have a very fine wine last, though I like the one better at its sibling a couple of blocks away, Dolce Vita.  But, Poscol has a much more appropriate cantina, or enoteca, setting and vibe.  Nicely, this information and some more is posted on Gambero Rosso’s website under the heading, “Top Italian Restaurants in Houston.”

Click here to see their picks in other cities, too.
 

One of Maurizio Ferrarese's delectable pasta dishes at Sud Italia

My Margherita Pizza Project is progressing, and the end is actually in sight this time, just a handful left, then some writing to do.  These are the restaurants whose margheritas (or margaritas) I have sampled most recently:
 
D’Amico’s – Satisfactory
Da Marco – Very Good / Good
Gorgeous Gael – Poor
Gotham – Fair / Poor
Healthy Cow Pizza – Satisfactory
Ibiza – Satisfactory / Fair
Luigi’s – Poor
Midici (Richmond) – Good
Osso & Kristalla – Good / Very Good
Pi Pizza – Good
Simone on Sunset – Fair


Below is the version at Da Marco with mozzarella di bufala that was very good.  Not surprisingly, Da Marco does a better job with it than most local places.

Well, who knows if the original margherita pizza first fired up in 1889 looked like the photo below, but this a margherita pizza at Brandi in Naples, where it was invented in 1889, as the plaque below it testifies.  I imagine it looked something like that.

It was absolutely terrific, by the way, and better than the other two pizzas we ordered, which were more laden with toppings.  Still excellent, the most restrained of three, the margherita was the best; less was more, when featuring a terrific, savory crust and excellent, amazingly complementary ingredients.

Below are the results of my most research – using the term as lightly as possible – into the surprisingly wide-ranging array of margherita pizzas offered throughout town since my last post on it about four weeks ago.  The ones below were each quite different from the others, some quite good and enjoyable and couple of others weren’t, especially the one from Star Pizza.  If I have any sage advice to give today, it is do not order a margherita pizza from Star Pizza.
 
Carrabba’s (Kirby) – Good
Correlli’s – Fair
La Griglia – Satisfactory
Star Pizza (Shepherd) – Poor
Tiny’s No. 5 – Good

The different, but attractive and tasty number from the precious Tiny's No. 5 in the heart of West U.

​Here are the cursory results of my most recent research since the last post about reviews.  Some good, very good, in fact, bad and ugly.  The bad and ugly were one and the same.

Amalfi – Very Good
La Vista – Satisfactory
Palazzo’s (Briargrove) – Good
Pass & Provisions – Very Good / Good
Sonoma (Heights) – Poor
Spaghetti Western – Good
Tasting Room (Uptown Park) – Good
Vincent’s – Fair
Weights + Measures – Good

The margherita at Weights and Measures, consumed.  Such a good place that works well in a variety of ways.

​When I was a kid, pizza seemed to come in just two ways: topped with pepperoni or a plain cheese pizza.  Of course, you could always add other toppings to the invariable New York-inspired crust from a limited array that always included sausage, (canned) mushrooms and anchovies.  There were no margherita pizzas back then; these were just the province of Naples and its environs.
 
The most interesting thing I have found in my “research” into local margheritas has been at Mascalzone and Taverna, two Italian-owned and -operated restaurants.  Though their versions have of the margherita have both been a little disappointing – and I have had a couple of very enjoyable pizzas at Mascalzone before – they give a hint into how the great American cheese pizza came about.  In each of these versions, the mozzarella was diced into small pieces and layered around the top, allowing it to mix with the tomato sauce and creating somewhat of an orange sheen, even a touch of grease helped by some olive oil.  More so, these two versions tasted a lot like the American cheese pizza.
 
So, my thought is that the cheese pizza probably had its origin in the margherita fairly early in the last century.  The gooey, greasy cheese pizza works much better with the sturdy New York-style crust than does the more delicate margherita assembly.  “Cheese pizza” might have been an easier sell to non-Italian-speaking customers, too.

The margherita pizza at Mascalzone recently, looking like a cheese pizza to me.

I just had a margherita pizza at Amalfi, which was very good, as you might expected.  It featured halves of cherry tomatoes, something that is not traditional for margherita pizza, though I am finding sliced tomatoes in a number of local versions of the pizza as I continue my sampling of the genre.  

Below is what I wrote about the noticeable quality of the tomatoes at Amalfi at a visit last year; it's something that can be a good insight into the quality of the restaurant.  To note, Bollo's tomatoes were better during my most recent visit, but not exactly flavorful, much less the level of those at Amalfi.

Underripe, nearly tasteless, and even worse, tomatoes are commonplace across the dining landscape.  To be fair, delicious tomatoes can be difficult to grow in the area and what usually gets shipped to local supermarkets, and restaurant supply stores, are bred for their transit-worthiness and shelf-life rather than their flavor.  When eaten raw in salads, a common occurrence, the quality of a tomato is quickly evident.
 
An appetizing tomato in Houston has become a hallmark for me of a restaurant of some quality and effort, maybe ambition, too.  Tomatoes eaten at two different restaurant on subsequent nights recently drove that point home.
 
On Thursday evening, I stopped at Bollo, the slick, new neighborhood pizzeria on W. Alabama in the space that used to be Sorrel.  I ordered their Margherita pizza, which was served with slices of tomato, instead of the Neapolitan way that features an uncooked, light sauce of pureed tomatoes at its base.  No matter, we don’t have strict naming conventions in this country, unfortunately, the tomatoes had unsightly, large yellow cores.  Obviously not very ripe, these tomatoes were very bland, at best.
 
The pizza was still pretty decent, if not nearly the Mascalzone or Dolce Vita level, and I’ll likely go back for a casual Italian-inspired pizza in a nice setting and atmosphere.  But, their tomatoes contrasted sharply with the tomato I had at Amalfi the next night.
 
You should expect that any tomatoes served at Amalfi, a restaurant featuring the cuisine of in and around the Amalfi coast from a native of the area, would be good.  Tomatoes are a staple of the cuisine there, and are absolutely terrific from the famed tomatoes grown in the San Marzano area to the large cuore di bue to the small cherry tomatoes.  Any decent replication of the cuisine would have to have succulent, flavorful tomatoes when meant to be eaten raw or lightly cooked.  And, they were that Friday night at Amalfi.
 
Soon after the start of what was an excellent meal, I noticed a purple half-sphere left on the plate of the nearly finished appetizer of luscious buffalo’s milk mozzarella, lettuce greens and at least a couple of different types of heirloom tomatoes.  I had almost missed it, a succulent, absolutely delicious tomato.  It was terrific, and a reminder of one the joys of southern Italian cooking, no matter the provenance of the tomato.  Something I wish more restaurant would take care in provisioning.
 
Amalfi
6100 Westheimer (between Fountain View and Hillcroft), 77057, (713) 532-2201
amalfihouston.com

Initially published on July 11, 2015.

The Regina Margherita at Amalfi on a visit last week.

As part of my fun, ongoing research into local margherita pizzas, I discovered that the two Sonoma wine bars serve them.  I hadn’t been to Sonoma in years.  An old girlfriend liked the place, but I never did, with its emphasis on fruit-forward, often obscure New World wines at the time that were served in a setting I found kind of cheesy.  At least that is what I had remembered about the original Richmond location.
 
Checking the website, I found that the wine list had expanded from what I recalled that was far more interesting, too.  And, their food options had gone well beyond just cheese and crackers and the like.  The newer Heights location was open for lunch, with margherita pizzas on the menu, so I went the other day.
 
Unfortunately, it proved to be just the second bad margherita pizza I have had from a restaurant since my “project” has begun – Trader Joe’s frozen version excepted.  Sonoma’s thin crust was like a flatbread, a lame flatbread that was too often reminiscent of cardboard.  I did not want to, nor did I, finish all of the crust, unlike all of the other versions I have eaten apart from the disaster that was Frank’s Pizza.  The deep garnet-colored cooked tomato sauce slathered above the hopeless base at Sonoma had a clear and unpleasant industrial quality to it.  There were sliced tomatoes, too, which were tasteless, but less offensive than the sauce and the as cheap-tasting mozzarella, which was the worst cheese I have had thus far.  A lot of grated (Parmigiano?) cheese helped as did red pepper flakes, but not nearly enough.  Plentiful mediocre toppings do not make for a good margherita pizza. 
 
As bad as this version was, it was expensive at $16.  Even bad pizza is usually good enough, but this wasn’t.
 

Do not order this pizza at Sonoma.  It was even worse than it looks.  It is probably much safer sticking with wine while you are there.

Below is an update on the Margherita Pizza Project.  Employing the terms used by the New York Times in their restaurant reviews, from best to worst (Extraordinary, Excellent, Very Good, Good, Satisfactory, Fair, Poor), here are ratings of the margherita pizzas I have eaten through today, the ones since last time are in red:
 
B&B – Good
Bollo – Fair
Brandi (Naples) - Extraordinary
Cane Rosso – Satisfactory
Coppa – Good
Crisp – Satisfactory
Dolce Vita – Very Good
Enoteca Rossa – Fair
Frank’s Pizza – Poor
La Grazie (Sorrento) – Excellent
Luna Pizzeria – Fair
Mazcalzone (Shepherd) – Satisfactory
North Italia – Good
Nundini – Satisfactory
Piola – Satisfactory
Pizaro’s (Memorial) – Good
Pizaro’s (Montrose) – Satisfactory
Solario – Good
Taverna – Satisfactory

Dolce Vita remains the local champ so far followed by Solario.

Here is the somewhat different version from B&B that was still fairly enjoyable:

​An article posted on the website this morning for Houston Press rates margherita pizzas.  I wonder there they might have got a notion to do something like that.  Well, it is re-heated margherita pizzas that they were offering opinions on – along with those for what they describe as New York style.  Re-heated is little different and a quite a bit odd.  I don’t believe that you will be ordering a pizza at Pass & Provisions or Dolce Vita primarily concerned how it tastes re-heated. 
 
If you want somewhat more interesting and certainly more useful information about the subject, you’ll want to continue checking my site as it gets filled out and the research continues.  Pizaro’s had little trouble with quality control the other day, mentioning the most recent example.  Naples, it wasn’t, unfortunately.